Have you ever wanted to just stay seated in church, but felt that you were supposed to stand? Are there times when you stayed seated anyway?
A recent opinion piece in the New York Times by John McWhorter gives extensive comment on standing ovations at Broadway shows. McWhorter recalls, with some sense of nostalgia, times when people did not feel compelled to stand as part of an ovation at the end of such shows. The practice was to stand if you found the performance extraordinary. He says that the current cultural norm is to stand at the end of pretty much every performance.
Reading the column got me to thinking about standing in church. It seems that in virtually every church service, mainline or evangelical (or other expressions), there are particular rhythms and rituals to standing and sitting as part of the service. Some churches add kneeling to the lineup of postures for worship and some add various formations of hand and arm raising. In evangelical settings, standing is mostly associated with singing, with the times of the service when the worship team is leading. “Please stand if you are able,” might be the direction. It is not uncommon these days for someone up front to say that it is okay not to stand, but depending on the service or the denomination or the tone of the music, you may feel coerced, even if you are being told that you have options. You may be familiar with lyrics in some of the songs that say declaratively things like “So I throw up my hands …”. If you are not the type given to raise your hands when you sing words like that, do you feel just a little disingenuous?
In McWhorter’s consideration of Broadway standing ovations, he asks how it would be possible today to not stand. If, for example, you liked the production but did not find it extraordinary, then wouldn’t NOT standing by the appropriate thing to do? If you stand when you would prefer not to stand, either at the play or in church, then you might ask what the motivation was.
I think that there is a similarity between the gentle coercion of Broadway audiences and that of some evangelical church services. Many of the newer (most big churches are new churches) would not consider the possibility of a service not being extraordinary. I can imagine that a church might have the slogan - “Extraordinary Every Time!” which would be better marketing than semantics. Worship in such churches is designed, guaranteed really, to be worth standing for. All Broadway shows are not extraordinary to the point of standing ovation. All services at some churches seem to come with a kind of worship assurance that you WILL be moved enough to want to stand and move.
It is perfectly reasonable to accept that we stand or sit at times, not because we feel like it, but because we are part of a larger whole. Especially in church services, it is the community gathered for worship, not just you there to have an experience. Besides that, sitting and singing feels at times less natural than standing to sing.
I am not, despite what might be inferred from this reflection, a person who is upset by the up and down, the stand and sit of church. However, I do like that more and more churches are identifying that there are times when, even though most people are standing, it is perfectly fine not to do so. Sometimes being moved in worship or contemplation means being moved to be still, maybe even quiet.
Next time I go to a play or a concert that I really like, but just really like, I think that I might endeavour to enjoy the fact that people around me may be standing either because they found the show extraordinary or because they feel that they SHOULD stand. I honestly won’t mean to upset people when I make the choice to stay seated.
I invite you, in plays, concerts and services, over the next while, to notice the particular cadence and expectation around the various ups and downs. Then notice the exceptions, even if you are one of them.